You Want Me to Be What?

Neither Jeffe nor I can recall what it was we were grinning at in this photo. That it was the FF&P costume party in NYC - that we remember. Jeffe came as Catwoman, while I was cleverly disguised as a responsible adult. Hey. I wore a damn dress. That's a major disguise for me.

Sad to say it, but the other disguise is me grinning. I very nearly slunk away into the shadows this week. Ebullience is as difficult for me as 'decrepit' followed closely by 'disease' was for some of my fellow Word Whores. Run of the mill happy? No problem. Brief, heady rushes of elation and joy? Yep. But in general, no one's going to apply the words 'effervescent' or 'bubbly' to my personality. My mother used to describe me as a kid by saying I was five going on ninety. Serious streak. I have one. It appears to be more than a mile wide.

However. There have been rare, very rare, occasions wherein the feels DO bubble up and it's possible I approach ebullient. Every single time, it has been in the company of friends. Like this gentleman. Ebullient because that's a Pangalactic Gargleblaster in his hand and it's his fifth (and last) drink of the night. A bunch of us were celebrating. He was the guest of honor. It was a hell of a party. *I* remember because I can't drink alcohol - and what I remember is laughing so hard that night I nearly peed my pants. Does that qualify for ebullient?